YOLO
by AlfredUSUK
Summary: England has nothing in common with America. In fact, England believes America is his polar opposite. So, when America needs to stay at England's for a while, England is naturally frustrated. But could his frustration have nothing to with the pranks, jokes, and remarks? Could it really be about something much more serious, like love? - Rated Teen;
1. Captain Hook & Cologne

**So, yeah, this is my first real authors note. I really don't know who actually reads these things, but, if you do, I give you a polite golf clap. So, hooray!**

**This idea came as I realized I needed to update my account. Sorry about the brief hiatus! LOLZ I do have school and family and other things.**

**As the summary suggests, it will be eventual USUK and it will most likely be a multi chapter as long as people review and favorite this story. Human names are used, but they are all still countries. **

**Rated T for England's potty mouth and implied thingies.**

**Lots of humor will be in this story. But, then again, what would you expect? It IS Alfred and Arthur, you guys! XD**

**Special Thanks to SHOUTthatIamAwesome and reoswell for editing and revising! **

**Without any more of my useless talking, here is my FanFic!**

**You Only Live Once**

**Chapter 1: Captain Hook and Cologne**

Arthur rubbed his temples as he took a sip of his lightly caffeinated tea. Why did it always have to be him? Why did he always have to be the country under the most stress?_ And people _wonder _why I am always yelling, _he thought to himself as he sat down on his recliner and took another drink of his hot beverage.

Arthur wasn't exactly prepared for what was about to go down. A meeting had just taken place at France's (don't ask) and certain countries were a while away from home, like Japan or China. To make matters worse for them, a massive thunderstorm was occurring and all flights had been cancelled. Therefore, some countries needed a place to stay. Arthur volunteered his place because it was right next door, and the fact he decided he was one of the best choices for the matter. He, Germany, Netherlands, Spain, Belgium, and Italy had offered their houses also.

Their names were put in a hat, and each country that needed a place to stay picked a name out. Those people were China, Japan, Russia, America, Turkey, and America's brother whose name had slipped Arthur's mind. And, as if fate had it, America got England.

Of course, England was furious. He always got annoyed when America was around. The boisterous country always seemed to try to get under his skin and make his life miserable. But, he _was_ a gentleman, so he masked his hate with a somewhat convincing smile. Alfred's face had gleamed as he stated he needed to get his stuff from the airport and he would be over England's 'ASAP'.

_Please take as long as you want, _Arthur had said to himself as America had left the meeting room. He really wasn't looking forward to the country's mockery and practical jokes. But, England didn't necessarily have a choice. Until the storm cleared up, Arthur was stuck with his obnoxious colleague.

England waited for America. Five minutes…Twenty minutes….

Soon enough, England's mind began to wander. It brought him back to the one dream he had with his fairy friends and the chocolate pudding, to the last fight at the world meeting when France insisted he 'argued like a girl', and, lastly, back to Alfred. The childish nation had seemed so _eager _to have a 'sleepover' at his house. England couldn't help but find that peculiar….

_Damn it! _England thought as he realized he didn't have a place for America to sleep. He should have thought about that _before_ he offered his house, not after.

But, everyone makes mistakes, even gentlemen.

_Where can Alfred sleep? _England pondered as he paced across the room. Sure, he _had _two guest rooms, but one was being used by Captain Hook while the other was 'quarantined' because of a simple kitchen fire and an investigation by the health community. _America could always sleep on the sofa, _England thought, but soon dismissed the idea. Making a guest sleep on the couch was certainly _not_ polite. _The only other option is my bedroom, _Arthur realized. That meant _he _would have to sleep on the couch, but the couch always jacked his back up. Sighing, England understood that either he would have to sleep on the couch or sleep with America in the bed….

_Sleep with America? _England questioned. He felt a bit of red begin to tint his cheeks and chest…

England quickly slapped himself. _Get yourself together! _He scolded. _I am sleeping on the couch and that is that!_

Now, of course England loved America. America was his brother for god's sake! But, the love was nothing more than a brotherly type bond. Arthur from time to time had to reassure himself of that, (when America was at the swimming pool and his pants feel down, completely revealing "Florida") but he was confident that that was the final answer. He barely had the courage to call America his friend, let alone his love interest. No sir, Arthur did NOT love Alfred.

Yet.

England set down his cup of tea and allowed himself to unbutton the top button of his collared shirt and loosen his tie. He slowly sat back into his recliner and closed his eyes. He decided after a little relaxation and tea, he would read a good book, perhaps some Charles Dickens…

Arthur's plans were interrupted when he heard the front door open loudly, for it crashed against the neighboring wall. England's eyes remained closed as he squeezed them tightened, worried about the damage that must have occurred. He then heard his guest greet him in the most annoying way manageable.

"OH, _IGGIEEEEEEEEE!_" The rambunctious nation that went by 'America' had squealed those words as he set down his suitcase with a loud _THUD _on England's freshly polished dinner table. Arthur could virtually see the bill to get it fixed. So, he decided to get the bloody hell in that room before his 'guest' could ruin anything and everything else.

England groaned as he made his way into the kitchen, only to find that America had already made himself at home. Alfred's shoes were kicked off, his feet resting on England's dinner table. America had also dumped his jacket on the ground and had taken off his military clothes, revealing only a pair of pants, socks, and a tank top undershirt. "You do know I eat on this table, right, America?" England asked as he raised a bushy brow, trying not to look at Alfred's torso.

"Whoops, sorry, Iggy," America somewhat apologized as he laughed. England cringed. He really did hate that nickname Alfred had given him. "Well, you know what they say!" America continued, his white teeth gleaming and his feet moving to the neighboring chair's seat.

England raised another eyebrow. What was this nation blabbering on about? "What do they say, America? That putting your rancid feet on a colleague's table is 'appropriate'?"

America just laughed again. "Dude, you are so old! No, I meant YOLO."

Arthur's face remained blank.

"You never heard of the term YOLO before?" Alfred asked, mouth gapping open.

"Close your mouth, America."

"That didn't answer my question."

"Maybe your question doesn't need an answer," England offered.

"It DOES need an answer," Alfred insisted, remaining defiant. "YOLO means You Only Live Once. It emphasizes that you should live life to the fullest."

England rolled his eyes, showing no excitement that Alfred had used the word 'emphasizes' correctly in a sentence. "That is ridiculous. I mean, I get your people would follow that, but not you."

"Why not?"

"Alfred, you may only live once, but let's not forget you also live forever."

"What about living my life to fullest? I can do that!"

"How do you plan on doing that?" England asked reluctantly.

America smiled widely. "Excellent question, Iggy." Alfred then stood up nice and tall, and thought for a moment. "It is hard for me to explain. I will just have to show you." America grabbed his suitcase and turned to England. "I am guessing you want this in your guest room?"

"NO!" England squeaked. Alfred jumped back, surprised at the sound Arthur made. Arthur cleared his throat. "I mean, put your bags in my room. My guest room is currently being used."

"By who?" Alfred asked.

"By _whom, _America."

"Well, fine then, by _whom?_"

"Capitan Hook."

America nodded slowly, smirked, and turned the corner, trying to hide is snickering.

It was little things like THAT that set England's teeth on edge.

England sighed. _That boy is going to give me a migraine, _England insisted.

Arthur then reluctantly picked Alfred's clothes of the floor, holding them out, away from his face. He went up the steps to the laundry room and had just begun to set them in the washer, but not before he got a good whiff of the cologne in Alfred's clothes. Unmistakably, it was Davidoff, most likely Cool Water. The peppermint and jasmine smell filled England's nostrils, along with the other smells of oak and moss. However, Arthur especially loved the peppermint and jasmine.

_Oh Alfred…_

Arthur soon realized his face was literally buried in Alfred's bomber jacket, so he quickly threw the clothing in the washer and turned the machine on. He allowed his blush to die down and made his way back downstairs. He heard Alfred talking to someone on the phone, but he couldn't make out what he was saying. Frankly, he didn't care. Why would he care what his guest was talking about?

Arthur made his way back to the recliner, set a magazine over his eyes, and closed his lids. _I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, _he repeated to himself. Arthur kept repeating those words over again in his head until he was able to 'rest his eyes' for a good hour.

But Arthur did care. He just didn't know it yet.

**AUTHORS NOTE~**

**I wonder who America is talking to….. : 3**

**Compliments, tips, ideas, and all the other stuff is encouraged!**

**Any questions, PM me! Just make sure you state what story your question is on so I don't get confuzzled! I think it is pretty self explanatory, though.**

**Thanks for reading! :D**


	2. The Japanese & Jackets

**Okay, okay. Japan…I am SO SORRY YOU GUYS. I love Kiku big bunches..HONESTLY! So, I am SUPER DOOPER SORRY if this comes out extremely racist. But, then again, the whole show Hetalia IS racist so….**

**I don't….even know you guys.**

**Basically…this chapter is about Alfred being…Alfred.**

**And how cute England looks when he is snoozing about magical bunnies and whatnot. XD**

**And...yes…before you ask, America's texting is supposed to have terrible grammar. **

**Special thanks to reoswell and SHOUTthatIamawesome for revising and editing!**

**AND A MERRY SPRING TO ALL OF YOU!~**

**YOLO**

**Chapter 2: The Japanese and Jackets**

"How are you doing, America-san?"

Alfred exhaled deeply. _I can't believe I am doing this, _he thought as he scratched his head. In fact, Alfie was still having a hard time processing what had just happed. What were the odds that his crush, the amazing United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, would have pulled his name out of the hat? Of course, Alfred had acted all nonchalant at the time, but on the inside, his heart was racing. No matter what anyone said, he believed he handled the situation fairly well, considering the fact that America REALLY liked England. Like, he REALLY liked him. "I'm okay, Japan," Alfred stated as he crashed on Arthur's mattress. _This is soooo soft…_

"So, that must mean your pran is going werr, correct?" Kiku asked. Now, not many people knew Alfred had this 'crush' besides himself and Hungary, but Kiku adored gossip, especially when it involved a form of yaoi. Of course, Mr. Honda didn't show it, but he was a true fan girl at heart.

"I haven't actually started it, yet," Alfred admitted. That was true. His plan was to wow Arthur as soon as he arrived at the door with chocolates or something, but the normally outgoing nation had backed out last second. The way Arthur had looked at him, utterly annoyed, had made him shake in his boots. Figuratively, of course. I mean, heroes don't shake!

"Why, America-san?"

"I don't know, I just decided against it. Nothing I can do about it now, Kiku."

"America-san, I know you rove Engrand-san with arr your heart, and I have a strong feering he rikes you back, so what are you worried about?" Kiku questioned. Alfred couldn't help but feel he was in a psychiatric office.

"It's not that easy with England," Alfred tried to explain.

"What's so hard?"

"What's so hard is the fact that England isn't really keen to opening his heart up, okay?! Are you forgetting that he wasn't always a gentleman? He WAS a pirate AND a punk! Frankly, I still believe he could crack my neck if he really needed to. Plus, I am afraid he will reject me, and that will ruin our friendship. I can't risk that."

"But America-san, if Engrand-san trury IS your friend, he wirr forgive you."

…_Good point, Jappy._

"You're right, Kiku! I have so glad I have a smart friend like you!" America stated a little louder than intended.

Alfred could almost feel Kiku blush. "Thank you, America-san, but don't serr yourserf short. I understand you don't rike people to know your actuar interrigence, but-,"

"OH SHIT!" Alfred screamed, bolting up from the bed.

"Wha-what is it, America-san? Did I say something wr-?"

"Huh? Oh, NO, Jappy! I just realized I left my jacket downstairs!" Alfred explained as he left Arthur's bedroom and started descending down the staircase.

"That's a rerief," Kiku muttered as he exhaled.

Alfred stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He laughed nervously as he scratched his head. "Yeah…anyways, I am sorry for scaring you."

"That is quite arright, Alfred,"Kiku reassured. This eased Alfred as he walked back into the kitchen where he had last seen his jacket.

Alfred pondered at the sight in front of him. He had distinctly remembered where he had left his jacket, but it was no longer there. Neither were his military clothes. _That's strange, _Alfred thought as he tilted his head. _I could have sworn I put them right he- wait, is that the washing machine?_

"I GOTTA GO, KIKU!" America hollered as he abruptly ended his phone call and hurried up the stairs in the laundry room. Faster than one would think, America made it to the washer just in time before the jacket had started to get all soapy. He stopped the washer and pulled out his drenched jacket. He was a little relieved, for the jacket was spot clean only and if it had gotten soapy, it would have been completely ruined. Luckily, it was only wet. Really REALLY wet.

Dragging the soaked jacket down the steps, he went off to find England. _I still love him, I still love him, _Alfred repeated to himself. I mean, Alfred was furious! Ruining his jacket was almost like defacing the white house. However, Alfred realized he wasn't upset with Arthur himself, but more as the action he did.

ARTHU-!"Alfred had begun to shout as he made his way into the living room. However, yet another sight stopped him in his tracks. There, peacefully sleeping on the recliner was Arthur. His head was tilted back and his mouth was cracked open a little, but Alfred could hear no distinct snoring. Alfred, though, could hear him murmuring about something having to do with Flying Mint Bunny and Tinker Bell and gold doubloons...

How could Alfred stay mad at Arthur now? The man had looked absolutely _adorable _sleeping there, all curled up.

_Now, I can't put this golden moment to waste, _Alfred told himself, circling around England's chair, wondering what to do. The moment was far to amazing to keep to himself, and America knew this because he heart felt as if it was trying to fly away. _I got to show this to someone…_

_Kiku is going to owe me BIG time, _the American told himself as he took out his cell phone. Then, making sure he was at the best angle, he snapped a photo. Thinking for a moment on what to write in the caption, he puckered his lips, making it sort of look like he was doing a duck face. Then a light bulb hit! He typed:

Hey Jappy. Srry bout hangin up on ya, but turns out you-kno-who put mai fav jacket in the wash! DX But, its ok, 'cause I just found him in the most cutest pose EVA! Fwd to Hungary plz! She will luv dis! ~Murica

Satisfied, he sent the message. He then moved over to the chair adjacent to Arthur's and took a seat. He leaned back and turned his head so Arthur's face was in front of his. Ever so slowly, Alfred reached his hand out and took the magazine off his eyes. Now, he could see Arthur's face. Arthur's brows were furrowed, but relaxed. His face was calm but focused, almost as if he was concentrating hard in his dream. _Artie looks so much calmer in his sleep, _Alfred thought to himself as he smirked slyly_. I wish he wasn't so pissy all the time…_

Alfred's phone beeped, revealing a message from Japan. He opened the message and read it. It said:

Thank you very much, America-san. Ms. Hungary likes it very much. I told her to keep it a secret and not to show anyone. Is that alright? ~Japan

Alfred smiled. _Japan is so polite, _he thought. He then wrote back:

That is completely ok dude. Just what I wanted! U kno me so well! LOL ~Murica

The two continued to talk back and forth together for at least another thirty minutes, talking about American and Japanese culture (American food is THE BOMB!). But soon, to Alfred's disbelief, Kiku had to leave for business purposes. And so…the American was left with nothing to do.

So, Alfred turned his focus back to Arthur.

Slowly but surely, Alfred became extremely bored with watching Arthur, no matter how cute the man was. What did you expect? Alfred was clearly a little boy at heart. Alfred quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the spell of sleep off of him. He then realized he hadn't slept in eleven hours and how the flight to France had been extremely tiring.

Too bad Alfred hates naps.

He casually glanced around the house looking for something to do. "UH!" He had sighed a little louder than usual. He was relieved to find Arthur still fast asleep after that outburst. _England has NOTHING fun to do, _Alfred quietly whined as he stood up and began to walk around the house trying to find something entertaining.

After the search had turned out pointless, (all he found where old books, embroidery crap, and a computer that had no connection to the internet) Alfred soon found himself back in Arthur's bedroom. He was practically tearing up his suitcase to try to locate an item that appealed to him. Finally, Alfred found one of his all time favorite Captain America comics. _I am so happy I packed this!_

Satisfied, Alfred reread the comic. After reading that Steve beat up Red skull nearly a dozen times, Alfred became unoccupied. Last resort ideas began to play the American's mind. The nation was desperate! He then got another idea. This one…wasn't well thought out to say the least. But since when did America have well thought out, ingenious ideas?

_I only have one option…but Iggy is not gonna like it. _

**AUTHORS NOTE~**

**HAHAhahahHa CLIFF HANGER! I know I suck ;3**

**I hope you all are okay I switched the focus on the POV for this chapter. It seemed to fit well but DON'T WORRY! Next chapter will be focused on England.**

**Like it? Hate it? REVIEWS ARE AMAZING! And, trust me, I ALWAYS REPLY.**

**And I write faster with every review I get…...so…KEEP 'Em coming! **


	3. Friends & Fears

**HEY-O my wonderful viewers! Let me just start out by saying that I love you all! Y'all are so supportive and whatnot and I just want to hug all of you. :D**

**Quick Summary: America does something stupid…LOL**

**This chapter is a little short. I am sorry. My people went bye-byes because of Homestuck and they haven't been revising. SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER!**

**And sorry about the cliffhanger last chapter. I have a bad habit with those. **

**This cliffhanger is a little less severe I think.**

**NOW ENJOY MY LITTLE SAVAGES XD**

**You Only Live Once**

**Chapter 3: Friends and Fears**

England was having a rather strange dream on that recliner.

Now, most people would think England's normal dreams were deranged, so if England personally calls a dream 'strange'…you should start to worry. Immediately.

Anyway, this dream was different from the ones England normally had. His 'normal' dreams consisted of plots with his magical friends or rather he didn't have a dream at all. THIS dream consisted of something completely different, something Arthur was not prepared for.

This particular dream was all about Alfred.

It was an average looking day in Arthur's country. It was dull and cloudy, but America and himself were having a picnic for some reason. It included wonderful food (not a single burger in sight!) and no stress what-so-ever. They were bickering and joking around, treating it like a normal day…until it began to rain. Arthur and Alfred seeked shelter under a pavilion, but found themselves a little too close for comfort.

Ever so slowly, their faces were getting closer and closer until their lips were about to touch…

Flying Mint Bunny then suddenly nudged England awake.

Startled, Arthur bolted up from his seat, dazed momentarily. At first, he was a little angry at his friend for interrupting his dream. Then, he realized _'Why am I angry?' _and dismissed the idea entirely and instantly calmed down. "Flying Mint Bunny…," he started, but his frowned returned when he realized the expression on his friend's face. It was a face of utter annoyance. "What's wrong?" He questioned.

Flying Mint Bunny rolled his eyes. "Do you not hear that?" He squeaked.

Now that he mentioned it, England did hear a sound. A familiar sound…a sound he hated that he had the opportunity to recall. Arthur jumped up from his recliner and his face went white. "G-Gunshots?" He stuttered.

Flying Mint Bunny noticed the look on England's face and flew up to him, replacing his pissed expression with one of comfort. "They aren't real, don't worry. They are just really annoying…"

"What do you mean they aren't real?" England asked, clearly confused.

"Your _guest _is playing a videogame in the basement," the rabbit explained.

That only confused England more. Arthur didn't have a game system …and he could have sworn his basement was locked.

_I am going to kill him!_

England's fists tightened as he turned his body and headed towards his cellar door, leaving Flying Mint Bunny to roam around upstairs. As England got closer to the door, he noticed the sound of guns getting louder and louder and a certain American screaming into the headset. Arthur stomped down the stairs and nearly had a heart attack when he reached the bottom.

His basement was a mess. Popcorn, blankets, video game boxes, and candy wrappers were spread out all over the couch, which was pushed far too close to the television for England's liking. The sound system was turned up all the way and all the lights were off. The video game was stunningly violent with sound effects to match, and in the dark room all you could truly see was America, dodging every attack like he was actually there. Surprisingly, he still managed to carry a conversation with whoever was on the other end of his headset. "Alfred, what is going on?" Arthur demanded.

America didn't hear him; his eyes were practically glued to the screen! England cleared his throat and shouted a little louder, trying to make his voice go over the videogame and the thundering rain outside. "ALFRED!" He hollered.

Still, he got nothing. England took this moment to (briefly) examine America. The '19' year old man looked rather cute with his face all concentrated on the screen, full of determination…

_Wait…cute? Oh, hellz-to-da-NO!_ **((Okay…England didn't really think that. But it was funny to imagine him say that, no?))**

So, putting his feelings aside, England did what any responsible adult would do…he shut the game OFF.

_Bad move._

As soon as Arthur hit that power button, he had the wind knocked out of him as a larger body tackled him to the ground. "ARTIE?! What the heck!" Alfred squeaked as they fell to the floor.

England was speechless for a moment. Yes, he had just had all the air knocked out of his lungs, and yes the boy had just screamed in his ear, causing Arthur to go deaf for a moment. However, in all honesty, the real thing making England speechless was the fact America _was laying on him with his face buried in his chest. _Arthur was lucky that it was so dark the American couldn't see how red his cheeks were. "What are you doing down here?" Arthur finally managed to ask, carefully making sure his voice didn't crack.

Alfred picked his head up and brushed his bangs away from his face, still maintaining his pissed expression. However, it was hard to take the American seriously because of his childish face. "I was playing a video game…what did it look like?" He asked annoyed.

"Yes, but I do not own a video game system!"

"Uh, correction…yes, you do. I just went out to the store and bought you one," Alfred stated as his frown turned into a vibrant smile. "Then I went to the store and bought some candy. I hope you aren't mad, but I kind of had to use some money from your wallet," he added sheepishly.

Somehow, England then found the strength to tackle America.

Now, on top of Alfred, pinning his arms down and sitting on his lower abdomen (he felt more comfortable in this position), England screamed, "I did NOT want a bloody video game SYSTEM!"

"O-Oh, well…" Alfred stammered, paying close attention to where England was sitting on him. "YOLO?" He tried.

Before England could retaliate, he saw a flash of light from out his basement window. Then, he heard a loud _BOOM!_

America screamed at such a high pitch, England was ready for it to break glass. America sat up (not practically caring that Arthur was in his lap) and grabbed the Englishmen into long bear hug. The 'hero' was shaking and was almost cutting off Arthur's circulation of blood. "I-I-Iggie….," Alfred stammered, "what was t-t-t-t-that?!"

"That was just thunder, America. They did say it was going to storm," England stated as he rolled his eyes. "That is why you are here in the first place, remember?"

"O-oh, right," Alfred stated as he loosened his grip, still not letting go. Surprisingly, England didn't push him off. He actually felt a little sorry for the boy.

"America…are you afraid of thunder?"

"N-NO!" America defended, but soon after sighed. "Okay, maybe a little bit, but it is only because you always used to scare me on nights like this," Alfred pointed out.

England chuckled. "I'll give you points for that one, but storms are a normal thing, Alfred. You can't stop them."

"I know that, but it seems so depressing. I like the sunshine! Plus, storms always reminds me of…ya' know..."

England took in a sharp breath and quickly hugged America back, figuring out what he was referring to. _I didn't know Alfred still dwelled on our war, _Arthur thought as he allowed the other nation to continue to hold him. "America, it's okay. It's fine. We're fine now, okay? You forgive me and I forgive you, so it's okay," he reassured the younger country.

"Yah," America said as he sniffled. _Wait, Alfred was crying?_ "Hey, Artie?" America asked, suddenly sounding apprehensive. It seemed like the American was thinking deeply about what he was to say next.

"Yes?" Arthur asked as a feeling of hope he couldn't explain filled his chest.

"I'm hungry."

England laughed as another crash of thunder erupted from outside. Surprisingly, America only flinched at the sound of it. "I can fix that," he simply uttered as he made his way up the stairs and into the kitchen to make something 'tasty' for his guest.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Flying mint bunny…you cock-block XD**

**Did you enjoy it? I think Alfie-kins is next….what do you guys think? :3**

**Reviews are my little rainbows. I will answer even if it is a tiny little compliment; I appreciate any type of feedback…LOVE YOU ALL!**

**So, pretty please REVIEW, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, and RECOMMEND! ;)  
**


	4. Boys & Basil

**This came out a lot faster, no?**

**This is a huge apology to everyone; for the last update and future ones.**

**I am currently doing 3 stories at once, finals are approaching, and my schedule is super hectic this month. I have no idea when I will be able to update….**

**I also have no more editors. Therefore, there may be little grammatical errors and other things. I am pretty good at monitoring that, but sometimes it takes another set of eyes to figure that stuff out.**

**I LOVE YOU ALL. Such nice people on here~~~**

**Quick useless summary: FLUFF IS EVERYWHERE! *dies***

**Here yinz are!~**

**YOLO**

**Chapter 4: Boys and Basil**

Alfred sat still among the pile of crap he created in Arthur's basement. America heard the door out of the basement close quietly, which permitted him the chance to get up and sprint to the nearby bathroom. Once inside, he quickly locked the door, and he examined at his reflection in the mirror.

Alfred's cheeks were a pink shade and you could still faintly see the tear residue on them. His eyes were a little swollen and his hair was all disheveled. America wet his hands, splashed water onto his head, and began to sculpt his hair. When Alfred determined it was looking expectable again, he splashed some water on his face in an effort to return it to its normal, hero-like glow.

America sighed. _Who am I kidding? _He thought. _What type of hero is afraid of thunder? What type of hero cries? _He grimaced at his reflection one last time before exiting the bathroom.

Alfred carefully made his way up the basement stairs, trying to be silent. But, this is Alfred! He can't be sneaky! In fact, with every step he made, the floor boards creaked.

Boys.

Anyway, Alfred finally made it to the top of the steps. He cracked open the basement door, only to find that the living room was empty. He relaxed and emerged from the basement. The window curtains were shut, and only could America faintly see the flashes of lightning.

America then heard quiet talking in the kitchen.

He turned the bend to find England standing behind the kitchen counter getting out ingredients. Alfred hid behind the neighboring wall and began to listen to what the British man was saying.

"…are you sure?"

Short pause.

"Alright, Tink, I am putting my trust in you."

Another short pause.

"I see what you did there; Good PUN!"

Average lengthed pause.

"Quit your complaining; Peter Pan wasn't _that _bad"

A long pause.

England erupted in laughter. "Okay, I will give you that, but I have to get back to this recipe for Alfred."

With that said, the talking stopped and England began to hum some Beatles song. The sound of picking up and setting down ingredients started and America couldn't help but want to find out what England was cooking.

With that said, Alfred quietly peered his head into the kitchen. Alfred's eyes were still puffy behind his glasses, but that didn't stop him from seeing a sight he wasn't exactly prepared for.

England was standing in his kitchen with an assortment of ingredients on the counter. He was looking at a recipe, biting the inside of his cheek. Arthur stopped humming and tssked his teeth, signaling he forgot something. "Basil," America heard Arthur mumble. He then saw Artie open the bottom drawer, and bend down, trying to find the missing spice.

_Damn…England has a nice __**ass**__….._

…_.what?_

America hid back behind the wall as his cheeks began to burn. _Where did that come from? _He thought as he shook his head frantically. _Get a hold of yourself, Al! You are just not seeing things right! Your swollen cheeks are blocking your vision…yeah, that's it! England doesn't have a nice ass. _America took a deep breath. _England is bossy and boring and old and cute and sweet and…_

_DAMMIT!_

America then suddenly noticed England come out of the doorway. England had some flour on his hands and face, but his fingers where kind of wet. "There you are," England stated with a smile. "I was wondering when you were going to come up to help me. I can't do this on my own, you know."

"Help you with what?" America asked as his mind began to fill with dirty thoughts.

"Making your chicken," Arthur replied nonchalantly.

"Oh…that…," Alfred breathed as another layer of red coated his face. He then found himself staring at the Englishman for a lengthy time. The white flour just allowed England's eyes to pop even more. And, staring up at him like that, Arthur looked adorable.

The situation quickly became awkward and Alfred stammered to get the situation moving. "L-Let's start cooking already."

England blinked and didn't say anything for a moment, as if his mind was wandering too. "Yes, of course," Artie muttered as he made his way back into the kitchen. The counter was littered with flour and spices. Nearby was a little container of egg wash. "Now," Arthur began, "first we have to finish coating the chicken. Then, we can put it in the oven and begin to work on the scones and what-not."

"But Artie," Alfred whined as he picked up a piece of raw chicken, "you know I hate scones."

"Well, you'll be here to make them the way you want to. That way I can't _mess them up_," Arthur retorted, failing at the attempt of an American accent. He handed Alfred the egg wash and brush and watched America smile at the horrible interpretation. "Now, I presume you do know how to make chicken strips, correct?" Arthur asked, ignoring the grin.

"Of course _I _do…the real question is if _you _can make chicken," America told him with a chuckle.

England rolled his eyes and he watched America begin to coat the chicken in the egg. Alfred then handed Arthur the piece of chicken and Arthur lathered on the flour and spices. He then set the chicken strip on the pan.

They worked efficiently like this until all the chicken was gone, hardly speaking to each other, but clearly sneaking glances when they thought the other wasn't looking. As England set the last piece of chicken on the tray, he said, "You can gather the flour and throw it away. We don't need it anymore."

Alfred just smirked. He picked up a handful of flour and threw it at England. It landed directly on the right side of England's face. At first, Arthur was shocked and allowed his pupils to become dilated. Then, his eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head towards Alfred, who was laughing. "I was a pirate, you know?"

America immediately stopped laughing as he saw England pick up some flour in his hand. _Shit, _Alfred thought as he began to sprint around the kitchen.

The twosome then proceeded to chase each other around the room with cooking products. "Come on Al, you scared?" Arthur questioned as he let the flour fly, having it crash against Alfred's neck area.

Alfred grimaced and grabbed some basil, and then knocked Arthur to the ground. America pinned England down and sprinkled the spice throughout Arthur's hair, making them both chuckle.

The Englishman followed that attack with flipping the American and pouring egg wash down his shirt. Alfred looked down at his dripping shirt, frowned, and threw more flour at England. Arthur picked up what was left of the basil and began to approach his former colony.

America backed up hastefully, grinning ear to ear at all the fun he was having. Unfortunately, doing this allowed him to hit the chicken tray, sending chicken flying through the air. The chicken stuck to both nations' clothes as well as the floor.

"You GIT!" Arthur screamed half laughing. "Look at the chicken!"

Alfred stepped forward to approach Arthur, but he ended up slipping on the floor egg wash and landing on his bottom. This caused England to have to stifle a laugh as he tried to help his friend up. America, however, had something else in mind. When England grabbed his hand, he pulled Iggie down to the floor with him. England landed right next to Alfred, and, among the chicken, basil, egg, and flour, he had his first real laugh in quite some time.

America had never heard England laugh that loud. England's head was buried in his hands and his face was turning red from the amusement. The laugh was light and good-hearted, which caused America to begin laughing.

After the two had finished, England allowed his breathing to recuperate while America was grabbing his side from the leftover laugh residue. Alfred smiled and said, still panting, "God…we…suck at cooking."

England chuckled again as he stood. "Yes. I know," he agreed as he examined the kitchen. "Not to mention we are quite messy."

Alfred glanced around the room and figured out what Arthur was talking about. The kitchen was trashed. Pots and pans were on the floor, and the flour was everywhere. " Oh…wow," Alfred commented as he slowly got up. "We should clean this up," the American offered, not wanting England to have to clean it all up by himself later.

"After we eat," Arthur replied.

"Are you suggesting that we-"

Arthur shook his head. "Oh, heavens, no. I am not stepping foot in this kitchen for a while. I meant we should order out," Arthur explained. He then thought for a moment and added, "How does Chinese sound?"

"Chinese sounds perfect," America agreed. Artie began maneuvering around the kitchen floor to the phone as Alfred added, "Can you make sure they give us extra fortune cookies?"

"Of course."

**Author's Note:**

…**Alfred, just kiss him already! GOSH!**

**Artie is next….should I have another character appear after dinner? Give me your ideas!**

**Make sure you favorite and follow! Recommending is wonderful!**

**Reviews and PMs are my life. I always reply.**

**~AlfredUSUK**


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